Half Way Home
by Cadeja
Summary: "Knives,I was afraid you'd ask me to show you his grave, I was also afraid that you wouldn't. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went to bury him, because I knew no one else would. I was going to bury the one man I'd killed, but when I got to the town, he was nowhere to be found. He has a future, Knives. He was meant to have a future. Let him keep it." Future V/L
1. Don't Carry It All

_So raise a glass to turnings of the season  
And watch it as it arcs towards the sun  
And you must bear your neighbor's burden within reason  
And your labors will be borne when all is done_

_And nobody, nobody knows_  
_Let the yoke fall from our shoulders_  
_Don't carry it all don't carry it all_  
_We are all our hands in holders_  
_Beneath this bold and brilliant sun_

_And this I swear to all_

**Don't Carry It All**

Meryl puts her cup of coffee down, seeming relived that Milly went of. Yeah- now she's going to ask the _serious_ questions. Not good. I try to stuff as much doughnut in my mouth as fast as I can. You know, to stall the conversation!  
"Vash! Stop stalling! Look- I need to ask-"  
"Dnth wowy, Mewy-"  
"...uh, maybe we can talk after you're done chewing."

Okay, I just bought myself fifteen seconds! Think, Vash!  
"Thanks, Meryl. But, you don't have to worry. I'll be keeping them _very very _far away. So there's no need for the townsfolk or Bernardelli to worry about-"  
"You're keeping _them_? You're keeping them _both_ with you? I... know you have to do this for your brother, but Bluesummers? Are you even sure he's not just a _corpse_? It's not healthy for you to live like that Vash!"  
"I know they're both alive, Meryl. Not awake... but alive. Knives'll be up soon, and Legato- he's still breathing. I can't just leave him to-"  
"That's what you should do. I mean- maybe not now, but you can't just hold onto a corpse forever... Please, Vash, you'll just get hurt again."  
"Meryl, I did this to him. I have to watch over him; I wanted a better path back then, one that wouldn't make me a killer. And I got it. I'm grateful for that, so I'll follow it. Don't worry Meryl, it's no burden. Not compared to the weight I'd have to live under if that bullet had done its... job."

There's a silence as Meryl picks up her coffee cup. It shakes a bit in as she sets it back down.  
"I see. Are you sure, Vash? That your safe with _both of them? _I mean you sent me and Milly away _because_ they're dangerous. But you're still there yourself, Vash. Alone with _them_. What if they both wake up? Then what happens to you? You have to stop thinking of yourself last! Just, just- if you won't leave them, then let me help you! At least that way if something happens, then I can-"  
"If something happened, it would probably be them trying to hurt you. Knives can't stand my being closer to a human than to him. And Legato would _use_ you for leverage without a second thought. I miss you, you and Milly both are almost all I've left. Which is why I need to stay far away, so you're safe. But, I have to at least try and save them. I mean, your ticket to the futures always blank, right? I just can't let anyone else risk their life in this."

"Vash... you won't change. Are you sure _you're_ safe?"  
"Legato never wanted me dead, and neither did Knives, really. I'm the only person whose safe with them."  
It's amazing how Meryl can keep so calm,strong with what she says next:  
"You shouldn't have to suffer for _them_, after everything they _took_ from _us_, from _everyone_. Not after- after they-  
Just promise you'll visit us here in the village. I don't want to lose you to those_ monsters_."  
"I will Meryl, whenever I can. I promise."

* * *

So... the prologue for a story in a what I take is fairly dead fandom.  
But, the little thoughts for this plot just won't let me be.  
The focus of the story will soon shift to Knives/ Legato/ Vash. (Hopefully with each taking a shot at narrating)  
I haven't seen Trigun in years. And, I just stated re-watching,so hopefully everyone's not _too_ out of character.

Lyrics are from The Decemberists' "Don't Carry It All", go listen to it on the tmblr link at my profile.


	2. Conversations with the Comatose

**Conversations **

It's not that bad, my little make shift home. It's a rickety little house, far of in the dessert. The wood creaks, looking more like bone from how cracked and blanched the suns and sand make it. Of the three rooms, only Legato's is really livable. You know, because the insulation had to wear out everywhere else, so Knives and I get rooms that go from happy-fun sweltering to wonderful freezing. While I stand by the fridge, sticking my face in it to cool down, I can just imagine Knives speaking:  
"You gave the _best_ room to the HUMAN, Vash? Why! Are you doing this JUST to spite me?"  
To which I'd calmly respond:  
"You need to calm down, Knives, because Legato's trying to sleep -or to be in a coma at least. Besides, I didn't _just_ give the room with the working air conditioning to a human, I gave it to a **critically injured** human. You know how vulnerable their wounds are to infection, especially when those wounds are in delicate places- like a **hole** in the **head**!That human _never_ would have ended up like he is now if he'd never met _either_ of us! Actually, that's true for **_all_** **humans**!"  
I end my imaginary conversation right there.

It's probably better if I spend my time doing something constructive in real life instead. I close the fridge and say bye-bye to its cold air, walking over the old bone hallway to Knives and Legato's rooms. I turn the oiled brass knob of Legato's first. Telling myself jokingly that it's just 'cause I miss the cold air that much already.  
That's not true, though.  
I rush over to the bedside, the one without the IV drip, glad there's no one here to see me fretting at the killer's side. I wonder if maybe, _maybe_ Legato is just a corpse that's kept fresh by the plant arm- mine; well, it's his now. I press my first and index finger to the side of his neck. There's a strong pulse. He lives. I let go of a breath I didn't mean to hold for that long. But, I still wonder if he is just a corpse.  
With Knives, at least his eyelids twitch or he makes a small sound. Knives _is_ dreaming, or thinking.  
Legato, he's just _exactly_ like a wax doll.  
That thought reminds me to take a damp cloth and wipe his skin. He seems healthy and physically _perfect_, except for the bullet hole. As I brush his bangs aside and wipe the smooth tawny skin of his face, the thick navy lashes don't flutter.  
His eyelids don't snap open, it's like every muscle's frozen into a placid look.  
Like if it, _he_, was designed. That's what scares me the most, just like with a wax doll.

I quickly open the drawer by his bed, to take out some injections of antibiotics.  
It took some time to convince the Doctor of why I needed so many of them so badly.  
I prepare a clean needle and wipe a spot on Legato's arm with rubbing alcohol.  
It's pretty hard to convince people who now live on Gunsmoke to give up precious medical supplies. It takes a lot of trust, and I feel like I betrayed that trust by not being perfectly clear on _who_ I needed the medicine for.  
I load a couple millimeters into the needle. I'm careful to get rid of the air bubbles. Legato looks so peaceful; I wonder if he'd laugh to know I took medicine away from good people,_my friends_, in order to use it on him. Of course he'd laugh. I find a vein in his arm and push the needle in until it breaks his skin. Legato would say that by taking medicine from them, I'm pushing them closer to death. That's not true. I have to switch to the other arm, his left, because the vein I'd chosen has been stuck so many times that by now it's difficult to use. Piercing a fresh vein, I release the medicine into Legato.  
I respond: "I'm not a killer".

The needle gets tossed into the waste basket when I'm done with it. I wonder if it's a bad idea to leave a crazy nihilist who just attempted suicide-by-Vash alone in a room with sharp objects. I switch him into fresh blankets, thinking that I'll take the sharps out latter, before he wakes up. I take a last look at Legato, before leaving to tend to my brother. Knives is the better of the two. At least, he scares me less. He looks like more of a wreak than Legato. He was all sweat and blood at first, but he's definitely alive. He'll toss and turn sometimes, or moan or grimace when I clean his nearly healed bullet wounds.I know he's awake and conscious, it's a plant thing.  
I make sure he's clean and comfortable, waiting for when he decides to wake up. Until then, I change his bandages and sheets before leaving to stand by the door frame as the suns' light fades,  
"Whenever you're ready, Knives...brother."

The last room I go to is the most run down of all, mine. But it's cozy. Even if I couldn't let Meryl and Milly join me, they still send little gifts every time I see them. This last time it was a quilt Milly made with the bright fabric scraps that her big, middle and little big brothers and sisters sent her, and some books and a straight razor from Meryl. I can't help but smile when I see their gifts on my bed.  
This place can feel like home, sometimes.

* * *

AN: Just to clarify, Vash is not having real conversations with Knives and Legato, not even telepathic ones.  
I'll be having Knives wake up next chapter, so Vash can do something other than talk to himself.


	3. New Uses for Old Toys

**New Uses for Old Toys**

It happens while I'm making a midnight snack run: _Vash, come now_.  
Knives just awoke, mentally reaching out for me. I rush through the door, to him.  
"Knives? Knives, you're finally up!"  
He sits up, then stands, a bit stiff from his wounds. A hand runs through his hair as it catches the starlight, looking closer to white than blond.  
"...You shot me again, Vash."  
"Yeah, sorry about that disagreement, brother. Maybe we can try something else next time?"  
"Agreed, Brother. But, will you listen?"  
"We'll _both_ listen, brother."  
If this all seems a bit too calm, I'm sure it's just 'cause we're both too tired for doing this the old way by now. Even Knives must be tired of it.

Knives rolls his eyes a bit at my last choice of words but still nods; we have the whole future to sort this out. To answer the important questions, to be brothers again.  
"So, Vash... You hid the Angel Arms, didn't you?"  
"Don't worry, Knives. There will be no need; people never come around these parts."  
"Just us, then? There are absolutely no humans near me here, Vash? You finally got it right."  
Knives is way to jovial while saying that. Uncomfortable! I don't have the heart or spine to correct him.  
"Maybe you should get back to bed for the night, Knives. I mean it's late and there's nothing to do around here."  
"I'm sure there's something we can do. I know, how about you give me a tour of this place?"  
"I don't know, Knives. It's real small and simple, a tour's not needed."  
"If it's small, that just means we can get the tour done quicker."  
"Haha! You win brother, you win!"

* * *

Vash's nervous habits are showing again. Even after a century apart I still know my twin better than anyone. The way he's scratching the back of his head, laughing as he recounts old jokes that aren't even funny, is a dead give away about how nervous he is. Is it me? He switches on the light and I see just how modest his choice of house was. It looks like it belong to some old hermit decades ago, and was then abandoned after their death. _Lovely. _I take a nonchalant sip from the glass of water Vash gave me. He continues to talk nervously.

"Oh, and this is the kitchen. It even has a refrigerator and dining set! Though the fridge is kinda empty, except for eggs and cheese, right now. I'll have to be going into tow- I mean to get supplies, soon. "  
He walks back to the hall where my room was, seeming even more anxious. He stands in front of one of the doors, blocking it.  
"That over there is the bathroom. You definitely don't want to forget, it's pretty important."  
"What's in the room behind you Vash?"  
"Oh? This one? It's mine, but it's messy, so we won't be going in."  
"No, it's not. The other room, with the door open, is yours. It has your coat in it, and the bed's unmade. So what's in this one?"  
I have him cornered.  
"Knives-"  
I swing the door open.

"Bluesummers. Vash, _why_ is he here? He **_failed_**?"  
I must be scaring Brother, from how he rushes to place himself at Bluesummers' side, effectively shielding Legato from me.  
"No he didn't, Knives! I shot him. He wanted to die _for **you**_. He didn't fail;**please**, don't hurt him."  
I stand my ground, a brow raised in question.  
"He wanted to die? He should have died, then. So, he failed."  
"He didn't try to avoid it! I- I shot his head. I thought, I was sure he'd died. You know the only reason I found him? While you were asleep, I kept thinking, and I was afraid; Knives, brother. I was afraid you'd ask me to show you his grave, I was also afraid that you wouldn't. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went to bury him, because I knew no one else would. I was finally ready to bury the only man I'd killed, but when I got to the town, he was nowhere to be found. Some townspeople remembered I had protected them from Midva- I had protected them. They agreed to help me look, we checked the cliffs and the morgue before the town coroner recalled a doctor friend of his having a gunshot patient with blue hair. They'd found him in the commotion, and didn't know who he was. I couldn't let myself be too hopeful that he'd stabilize, but even the doctor said it: he was clinging to life with tenacity.  
He has a future, Knives. He was meant to have a future. Let him keep it."

Vash just has to go looking terribly broken up over a human, again; I know what I have to do if I want to keep Brother.  
"You realize he's brain dead, Vash, right? But- if it's that big a deal, keep him. Just think of it as a hand me down, little Brother."  
Vash cries, _actually cries_ upon hearing this, before giving a small, sincere "Thank you, Brother."  
I just have to remind him of one last thing:  
"You know the humans only helped him because they didn't know _who_ he was?  
If they'd found out, he'd have had a worse death than anything you'd give. Remember that, Vash."

Later that night, after Vash's asleep, I return to get a look at Legato. I'm not going to hurt him and incur one of Vash's fits, I just want to see the damage. I remove the bandage form my old pet's forehead. If it weren't for how distressed Vash was, I wouldn't believe that the narrow hole with it's healing flesh came from a gun of the caliber that I made.  
Is that a testament to the strength of My Brother's flesh, or just another preternatural Bluesummers trait?  
I pry Legato's eyelids open to reveal those disaffected yellows. Doll's eyes, doll's face; if he doesn't wake up, then there's nothing more to him than trash. _"Clinging to life with tenacity"_, as if. I doubt Legato would find it tasteful to linger uselessly like this.  
His body always did seem like a cruel joke played on him.


	4. Blind, Broke and Bedlam

Blind, Broke and Bedlam

Vash ran off again, into the _human_ settlement, early in the morning before I awoke. He probably meant to get back before I got up. As much as he likes those human pets he lets walk all over him, he'll return to me. Vash _knows_ what happens when he abandons me. July, Augusta and everything in between and after taught him that. Vash knows that the humans who try to take him from _me_ will be removed. So, Brother will return to me, and he won't have much choice but to stay with only me. I'll convince him then. He's stubborn, as you can see from the nonsense he clings to. And he has a very selective memory, to the point he sees _this_ as a victory because of how badly Legato fumbled his end of the plan. But Vash is no moron, being my twin after all; so he'll see reason once I've removed him from the humans long enough. I think that was my first mistake. I was young and my actions were too sudden, my justification too blunt and factual, for someone as emotional as Vash.I can work around Vash, now that I've seen more of what makes him tick. For all his flaws, the telepath was an of which, Legato is still in bed, and probably always will be. I don't know how he is now, I haven't bothered to even enter that room since last night. And I probably never will, until Vash finally gives up and throws out my now _vegetable_ servant. I don't _hate_ him; he was cathartic. For how thoughtlessly his species uses mine, I had him. Humanity's stronest was more than eager to admit his inferiority and prostrate himself for whatever punishment the superior being saw fit. There were times I needed you, Bluesummers. Not that I'll ever admit it. If I cared more for Legato, or the man he once was, I'd kill him rather than leave him like this. He just isn't worth upsetting Vash over, however. He used to be decisive, useful for a human. Now he just lies there, somewhere between living for Vash and dying for me. Pathetic. Is that some sort of joke, Bluesummers ? I'm not laughing.  
I hear rustling, vermin probably.

* * *

"Knives! I'm home! A little help with the groceries!"  
Knives just leisurely strolls over , you know because I'm totally not breaking my spine carrying all this stuff!  
"What's that Vash?" "A grocery bag. Now take it! This stuff's _way_ too heavy." All Knives does is open it up to look at the contents: "Why do you have grape soda, donuts and pudding with _rainbow sprinkles_? WHAT are you doing with this junk! Vash, is that how you _normally_ eat? No wonder you think so little!" "It's _happy_ food, Knives. Maybe if you ate something cheerful more often you wouldn't be such a sour puss. Besides, I eat healthy food, too! See, veggies and salmon sandwiches!" I hold the health food bag to him, hoping hell friggin carry it. Knives just stands there.  
_Thunk_  
"Knives, did you hear that?"  
"It's most likely just a rat; you may want to get your gun."  
_Thunk, crash_  
"Legato! It has to be him!" I drop the groceries and run. I hear the eggs break in the background while I rush down the hall, oops. I steal myself with a single breath before going in, too rushed to wonder what I'll find. Legato's heaving on the floor. He ripped the IV out, and is trying -and failing- to pick himself up. He just trembles violently whenever he trys to make a goal oriented movement. He realizes this and just goes still, gasping. I walk over. Legato doesn't notice me until I've scooped him up, back into bed. He's a lot lighter without that creepy coat, and after having been on an IV diet for the last months. Legato looks at me with his mouth agape, but doesn't say a thing. Yeah, I guess I'd be speechless too if it turned out the afterlife consisted of being nursed by my rival. I try to catch him up to speed. I'm tempted to hold his hand while I say this, but that would probably just make Legato Bluesummers mad.  
"So... hi, Legato. I don't know if you've totally noticed yet, but your alive. Isn't that great! No- that was the wrong thing to say. Look... I know you were in a difficult place before, and still are. But, you have a chance to start over here, you and Knives both. He's here you know, and he's willing to try over. Can you do that too, can you try?"  
Legato doesn't answer me; he just looks bewildered for a moment while opening and closing his mouth before just shutting it and clenching his shaking fists. I think I need Knives here. "Wait here, Legato. I'll be back in a minute. Why don't I get you some food and water?" I run off to the kitchen, mostly just to get Knives. When I get there, my brother's huddled over the fallen groceries, picking and choosing. I snatch the apple and cheese from him. "Thanks, Knives. Legato will be needing this. Could you- could you go talk to him, I think something's wrong." Knives glares as I put Legato's food on a plate and fetch a glass of water. "_He __awoke? _You _think_ something's wrong?" "He won't speak and... I doubt he can understand me. Maybe seeing you would calm him?" "Are you telling me you made Legato deaf _and_ dumb, Vash? What use is there in keeping him? You're not going to keep him, right? You'll give him to some humans." It's probably best not to mention the paralyzis, but Knives'll figure out anyways. "Knives, lets not discuss that now. Just, please visit him. He'd be happy." "_How_ is that my concern if he's a moron now? he can't even speak! Of all useless- if he wants to talk to me, he'll have to come out here and ask for himself. I am not going to him."

* * *

There are so many questions chasing one another through my mind, all leading to the wrong conclusion:** not dead**. For every other answer I'll never receive, that is the one bit of knowledge I wish hadn't found. I could have been near _happy_ if this was hell. I feel the coming footsteps more than hear. Stampede. He sets a tray with an apple, cheese and water before me. Merciful fool, he has forgotten whom I am; he has forgotten that there is nothing he is _willing_ to give that I want. I see his lips move and expression soften, but can't understand a bloody thing he says. I focus, concentrate. With all the will and coherence I can summon, I send the tray to the ground. Vash quickly kneels, only being able to recover an apple, the cheese dirtied and precious water lost to the floorboards. When he reappears to me there is nothing but that melancholy smile and a reassuring grip on my hand. So he thought that was accidental? All of _this_ is a mistake. I try to lose myself in my ability while Stampede softly strokes my Shoulder. Nothing. There is nothing beyond the confines of my mind. Vash took that from me, too?  
I am left with no recourse but to give _in_, to hide _within_ myself, while I try to _think_.

* * *

Legato... I hurt him so badly. A part of me finds him so pitiful and meek that I forget. I don't care anymore about what Legato was to me in Augusta and in LR, when he tries to hide his face in his palms and only succeeds in shaking violently from the effort. That's enough. I sit on his bed and bring his head to rest on my shoulder, rocking him like you would a child. Which, alarmingly, Legato very much now is, come to think of it. "So... On the first evening a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world." By now I'm sure he can't hear me, but it still's a nice song. "So... On the second celestial evening all the children of the pebble joined hands and composed a waltz." And he hasn't tried to use his powers, so its safe to say those are gone. I feel guilty, sick that a part of me is happy to see Legato become this harmless and safe. "So... On the third celestial evening all the children of their waltz rippled across the world's face." Even if it is just because that will make it easier for him to live normally, like a human. "Sound Life."

* * *

Vash is singing that _damn_ song. I_ hate_ that song, and therefore so does Legato. But I hear Brother keep singing, confirming that Legato really is that far gone.

* * *

AN: Yes, the chapter title _is _that uncreative. (ie, Kasumi's mission in Mass Effect)


	5. Praying for Visions from God

Praying for Visions from God

_Nice and high and far apart, __Just like they said_  
_I built this place with broken parts, __Just like they said_  
_I'm safe in here_  
_Irrelevant, __Just like they said_

He is mocking everything I have ever lived for. I cannot tell how many hours or days have passed since the first time Stampede offered me sustenance; I still refuse the food he holds against my mouth. I try to avoid the water he brings, but Stampede has been too clever in that regard. Exploiting my body's damnable reflexes, he'll pry my mouth open, tilt my head back and pour the water into my mouth, giving no choice but to swallow or choke. But, truly I have no choice as my body betrays me, automatically drinking the liquid, even if I wish otherwise. My traitorous filth of a body that got me into this predicament, that survived yet left me worse than useless, cost me everything and ruined the_ only_ hope I had left. I can't speak. I can't hear. _My voice just echoes off these walls._

_I see it all_  
_The many ways you can't get to me_  
_I see it all_  
_I see the hell you put yourself through_

Vash sits me up in the bed, holding a cube of apple to my lips and staring me down as if he might actually find something, like he'll win this. Nothing. Given enough time Vash goes on to that dreadful water. I wish to choke, terrified of facing Master now. Now, the _only_ thing he'll remember of me now is what a spectacular **failure** I've been, butchering my purpose to the point of ending as a deadweight for His brother. Stampede uses his sleeve to wipe some droplets off my chin. My plan was a fool proof: Vash would kill the spider, or I would kill the village, his friends, myself. The _perfect_ binary for Vash: kill or save none. Either path would show him the necessity in, the _mercy of_ granting death; and so the brothers' argument would finally have been settled in Masters' favor. _Then_ Master could remember me fondly... None of that matters anymore.

___My voice just echoes off these walls_  
_  
_

My body betrayed me, so I betrayed Master. Even if it was against my will, I still see survival for what it is: worse than failure, it_ is **treason**_. How is it that I went from Master's most faithful to destroying His plans? Now, now he will never believe me, that I was devoted to Him completely. Not that Master _should_ care, especially now that I've stolen his brother. Certainly, if Vash is here trying to shove food down my throat, then he delayed his meeting with Master. Master's plan ought to have reached completion by now; _humanity_, we should be extinct. Yet I live, and I don't see Vash mourning, so Their battle cannot have taken place, because Master would not lose. Vash delayed, because of me. And now I am like _this. _Captive, again. _And I just slowly fade away. _Master never did say what to do if I was captured. Would he want that I kill myself? I can't even accomplish that. Besides, I can't let myself die while disappointing Him. My mission, there must be a way to salvage it. At the least, I owe it to Master to face him and apologize. I can't just hide... I will return to Master, he will correct my error. Maybe Vash will follow, I owe master that much. I'll escape soon, even if I'm powerless, can't move my body beyond a twitch of the wrist and am watched over by _Vash. _I must return: I belong to Master Knives, not Vash, even if Vash keeps me here. _You will never, ever get to me in here.  
_

* * *

This isn't any good. Legato won't eat, no matter how much I coax him. It's not that he can't. I see the resolve in his eyes. This is the last act of defiance and loyalty that Legato can muster: starvation. It's sad, really. Knives, why do this to someone? It's so obvious how much you mean to him. Why do this? A human can last a month, at most, without food. I'll have to put Legato back on the IV before that time's up. I don't want to, because that's _forcing _Legato, and he's probably been through enough of that already. I don't want to take away the last scraps of will he has left, yet he insists on using that will to harm himself. I don't think I'll get much of a choice. A human can only last a few days without water, probably much less in Gunsmoke's heat. I'm sorry, Legato. I carefully pour the cool water down his throat, knowing how much he'll hate me for it.

* * *

I use a polished tray as a mirror. It lets me get a view of my Brother and Legato without being seen, as I duck intothe alcove by the doorway. Legato doesn't deserve it when Vash strokes his bangs from his eyes or brushes his cheek. He doesn't deserve a superior being's concern for failing an easy mission. I shift the angle of the mirror to give a better view of Legato. He's damaged worse than Vash implied, yet his retina make contact and track movement as well as ever. Is there anything to salvage? Vash,my idiot brother, seems to think there is. Brother wastes his time wiping Legato's face with a damp cloth. At least then Legato won't stink if he comes out here. Then again, how long has Legato been wearing those clothes? It looks like his black turtle neck and gray slacks. Unless Vash went out and bought a new set, the answer's bound to be pretty disgusting. There's no way I'm letting my brother and my servant live that way. I nudge Vash mentally, curiously looking in the mirror to see if Legato intercepts anything: "He's **disgusting**, Vash. Give him a bath." "Wha? Knives, that's not right... Legato must feel vulnerable right now, a bath will be too awkward." "Listen. To. Me. Vash- Is having Legato live like a pig _better_?" "Just give him some time to-" "I'll open the faucet of the tub, if you don't want it to flood and ruin your floorboards, rush there to shut it off. Take Legato with you." "You're a jerk, Knives." Our entire telepathic exchange seems to have gone over Legato's head. I walk to the tub and then quickly make my way the kitchen, shutting the door so Legato won't spot me. I hear Vash open the door, his steps slow and a bit heavy. Good.

* * *

Knives might be right, that Legato should take a bath. Legato needs to learn to trust people other than Knives, to trust _me_, if I'm ever going to help him. I shift him a bit so I can turn the knob and open the door. He's light and soft and limp in my arms; that can't be a good sign. Legato's head just falls against my chest, without his muscles bothering to support it. His eyes have a cold edge in them. I don't blame him, but he needs to learn trust. Knives wasn't kidding when he threatened to flood the tub. I shift Legato to sit on the floor and shut the faucet before checking the temperature. Cool, tepid maybe, it's not the freezing bath I was afraid Knives would try to make me give Legato. I drain the tub a bit and add some warm water before getting back to Legato.  
"Hey, Legato. I'm just going to clean you off a bit, is that alright? You'll feel better with all the grime off- just stay calm, please." I'm a thorough believer in reaching out to everyone and acknowledging them, even when it's a deaf Legato Bluesummers. I kneel down by him, putting my hands at the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. He's all soft skin and hard bone, gentle curves and sinewy muscle. But- that's not what makes my breath catch: there's an old, angry jagged tear across his throat and _oh so many_ little scars that dance on his ribs as he hyperventilates. Is this what you don't want me to see?  
Mentally, I reach out to ask: "Knives, what is this?" "_What's_ what, Vash?" I slip off the rest of Legato's clothes, mouthing _sorry _and trying to push down my unease about the way he flinches. "The scars, Knives! Did you-" "Don't. Accuse. Me. Brother. He was damaged when I got him." I ease Legato into the water and wash his hair as he scrunches his eyes shut. "Sorry. Sorry, Knives. But, how did this happen?" "Do you see the big one on his throat? _T__hat _was the humans who had him before me. He was _just_ a broken, teenaged-thing left for dead on _their_ city's outskirts when I found him-" "Why didn't you tell me this before, Knives!" Poor thing. "_Hmph. _Normally, you don't like stories like this: Their pustule of a city was just too close to where I wanted to live, so I leveled it. And somehow, he survived on the outskirts- doing the _unthinkable_ and manipulating me to go to him, telepathically begging for help on a subconscious level. I didn't mean to keep him alive, honest. I'd just meant to find out what a _human_ was doing with those abilities. But his first words to me were _endearing_: **God** _, is that you?_ Of course, the egotistical little being _actually_ thought I'd killed the city for him. That his god came down to avenge and mend him, some idiot starstruck spiderling fantasy. I let him believe that for a week or two." I rinse the soap off Legato, as he carefully keeps his head down, eyes shut and fists shaking. "Knives, he was an abused child... It's natural that he wanted somebody to save him." "Abused by _the humans_. He'll never stop hating them, he'll never accept them and he'll never accept that he's one of them. Give it up, Vash." I drain the tub of water, getting the softest towels I can find. "He's not a natural born killer... Legato could have been diffrent in another life." "That life never happened, Vash. Forget it." I wrap him in the towels and then lift him out. "That doesn't matter, your-" "Ticket to the future's always blank. I know, Vash. You say that way too much. Stop it." I smile a bit to myself. After I've dressed Legato in a white button up and faded jeans, put him to bed and turned off the lights, I run into Knives when I step out of the room.  
"That whole time, Legato couldn't even sense I was right here." Knives says with his arms crossed.  
"He'll get better, Knives."

* * *

AN: Well, I'll be using a slightly modified version of Legato's manga back story. Modified because I've added to it so that I can write the Angel Blades out.

Lyrics at the top are from NIN's Echoplex.


	6. The Cave

The Cave

_It's empty in the valley of your heart_  
_ The sun, it rises slowly as you walk_  
_ Away from all the fears_  
_ And all the faults you've left behind_

_The harvest left no food for you to eat  
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you thief  
But I have seen the same  
I know the shame in your defeat_

_But I will hold on hope  
And I won't let you choke  
On the noose around your neck_

It just takes a little patience. Legato's not that bad now, really. When I enter his room he looks at me briefly before darting his eyes back down. Legato tries to be fast enough that I don't notice his glance; he's still a bit shy I suppose. I walk over to him, set the tray of food on his nightstand and wait for eye contact. It doesn't happen, but that's nothing to get disappointed over.  
"Hey, Legato, how are you today? Feeling better I suppose. Are you hungry?"  
He gives a soft _huff_ without looking up. I'd like to think that he can understand me and just doesn't know what to say. I pull a chair to the side of his bed and take some cubed fruit from the tray to his mouth. Legato will take it in, chew and swallow. We continue this routine until the foods gone; I give him water, say bye and leave. I feel Legato staring at the back of my head as I go. Maybe it's not perfect, but it's a start.  
I think Legato's beginning to trust me. At least he knows I don't mean him harm. Things are looking up right now, when I walk into the kitchen and find Knives at the table reading a copy of The Gunsmoke Gazette that I brought over. We exchange good mornings every day, and sometimes manage pleasant conversations. Things are getting better every day.

* * *

"What just happened to make you so cheery, Vash?" It's not that I _hate _my twin, but that eternal pain and suffering was _necessary.  
_"Life, Knives."  
"You'll have to be more specific." this is bad, Vash needs to feel regret and loss if he's ever to notice how _silly_ choosing the humans, choosing Rem, over _our _kind was. I thought killing the damn priest had made a point. Brother sighs dreamily after pouring himself orange juice and fetching a stack of pancakes.  
"You see, Knives, it's just that- I'm trying to find the words right now- everything's fine. I mean, things went wrong before, and I, we lost a lot on the way here. But now the worst's over, and everything will be alright."  
This is exactly the problem: "Vash, we're brothers but we still don't agree. This is just a new way to settle our disagreement."  
Vash eats pancakes across from me. "I know, but we can't disagree forever." I put the trash newspaper down, deciding this deserves my full attention.  
"Vash, wipe that grin off. Why are you really this happy?"  
"Legato's finally eating. I think he's starting to trust me. Now I can help you both." I start laughing, too brusquely maybe.  
"Vash, I know Legato. He doesn't _trust _you, let alone like you. He was probably just being too stubborn and not taking help from you on principal before. All you did was make him give up. Believe me, no good will come from your helping him. There's no big symbolic victory to be won for humanity there."  
"You're being too bleak, Knives." Really, the only thing I'm trying to do is help my brother.

_And I'll find strength in pain_  
_ And I will change my ways_  
_ I'll know my name as it's called again_

_Cause I have other things to fill my time_  
_ You take what is yours and I'll take mine_  
_ Now let me at the truth_  
_ Which will refresh my broken mind_

* * *

The Stampede has no right to act like _this;_ to pretend this is _for me_, as if I could believe that. He still persists in working to keep me alive, smiling and acting like his help is some selfless act. In truth, Vash simply cannot accept the consequences of his actions. Coward, he couldn't even accept the choices I gave him. Vash takes a seat by me and insists on me to eat. Of course, Stampede dose not care for _me_. He can't accept _my_ choice and the consequence of that Rem's flawed philosophies. Instead, Vash just keeps me as some insult against Master. For being a God, Stampede is a coward, to live in denial of what he is and what he's done. I tried to teach him better and, naturally, failed. When I finally take the damned food, he acts so disgustingly happy.  
Stampede thinks he's won something, and I suppose against me, he has. Superior being that he is, why can't he understand my thoughts? They are simple. I _hate _Stampede and I have to leave, to Master. Fasting, the weakening my body, will not further my goal. I never should have tried to hold onto any pride in the first place, of course.

* * *

"It's a beautiful day, Knives. Why don't we go out?" I'd been trying to hide from the heat by the freezer, only to be snuk up on by Vash. Was he always this cheerful in the mornings? I don't quite remember.  
"It's over a hundred degrees outside, Vash. There's no way in hell that counts as a beautiful day."  
"Your still not used to Gunsmoke's surface temperature, are you?"  
"Remember I was confined to a plant for twenty years."  
Vash tensely mutters something before ducking out of the room. Figures. I'm more surprised when Vash returns with a pair of canteens and clearly says what sounds to me like:  
"Knives, do you want to see the town?"

"What, Vash?"  
"You know, the town. Do you want to see it from the bluffs near here?"

He repeats it innocently, like if it were something normal of us to do. As if people watching hadn't (a few steps removed) led to him shooting me in the leg.

"alright, Vash."

This is a chance to finally make that lesson work.

* * *

It's a strange, steady pace to life,but not at all unpleasant: get up before dawn (before Knives), tend to Legato, eat whatever I've been able to sneak of to the village to pick up from the girls (not that Knives ever tries to follow), then go with Knives to the cliff near here. We'll spend hours watching the villagers from there. Me, to remember a life I miss right now, Knives to watch me and try and figure out why I even care about the village.  
I've been away from that little village for so long that I don't even knows what's going on there anymore. Sometimes I'll wonder out loud about how the people are. I smile as I talk aloud of how they're generous and kind, how humans can stick together and persevere in any circumstance. Knives answers that I can only smile because we're to far and detached to see how they murder, maim,threaten, break , beat, rob and rape each other and everything around them. I tell him that neither of us know anything for sure, it's just like that story Rem told me once about Plato's cave. My brother just scoffs, rolls his eyes, and sit down besides me and says I'm an idiot dreamer. Which I guess I am.

* * *

Stampede is gone. He must be; it is well past the time he comes to monitor me at, and yet there is no trace of him. Something, somewhere has kept him. Finally, finally I have the chance to break free of him. I swallow the dry lump in my throat, and begin trying to tense my toes and fingers. The movement comes out more stiff and sporadic than I'd willed. Sometimes it doesn't happen at all. Good enough. I breath in deeply while sliding out of the bed.  
Right after crashing onto the floor from that attempt, I wonder at how thick the air feels while I heave on the floor. I quickly realize that is just my mind fooling with me, and that I've wasted enough time already. I try to scrape myself of the floor in a steady manner. Between the bullet through the brain and the time spent wasting in bed, it is a struggle to even try standing. The wall helps, if slide my hands along it for balance, I think I may be able to get out of this place. But what then, die in the sands like some hurt dog?

* * *

I'm not even sure if there's any goal to me and Vash watching that human settlement, anymore. At first I'd thought we were competing to convince each other, but then that wore out. We just do it to waste time, and confirm our beliefs now. But agreeing to disagree is a dangerous and unstable state for us, we _can't_ coexist if we disagree. I shrug and pop my neck as Vash and I walk back to the house. These thoughts are too heavy. I stand off to the side while Vash takes out his key to open the door. Vash stares dumbfounded after opening the door. I move in, to see what has him so shocked.

"Legato." I'm not sure if it was Vash or me who just said that. All the same, Bluesummers gasps and spills onto the floor. This time it's Vash who yells out "_Legato_" as he rushes over to my now heaving and flailing servant. I stalk over, watching dear idiot Vash try to sooth Bluesummers while pinning his wrists.

"Shh, shh, _Legato_, Legato, be still. _Please_, don't make me restrain you. _Please_, don't get hurt...Knives, I- I think he's having a seizure. Please help _me_, brother."

Vash kneels on the floor, pining Legato's heaving shoulders so that his head rests in Vash's lap. Bluesummers doesn't even bother trying to look up at me.  
"Vash, leave him be. He'll get over this on his own." As I say it, I know I probably wont convince my twin. I might as well leave and just sleep through this little mess.

* * *

Stampede still doesn't understand how useless this is. He covers my eyes so I don't see Master walk away. As if I couldn't already piece together how disgusted he is with me, to have been here all along and- and ignored me, as always. Should it have even been any different?  
I can barely make it out over the white noise in my ears, but I think Stampede is calling out my name. After a great struggle I manage to lift my hand to uncover my eyes. Clearly, Vash hadn't expected I could do that. He looks down at me with shock and wonder. I stare back with all the blankness I can summon. Stampede tries to brush my forehead, I jerk back as much as my muscles will let me.

"Legato, how are you?"  
I can only jerk upright and dry heave in response. Vash tries to steady my shoulder with his arm.  
"It's okay. It's alright, just sit down and try to breath slowly."

I steady my hands on the wall, stand and shuffle forward a bit before Vash pulls me to him. _Bastard. _He wraps his arm about my shoulders to force me to lean my weight on him. When I try to speak up my tongue and larynx just feel numb and dry in my throat. Vash nudges me along to lie down in the bed he's been leaving me in these days. As Vash starts smothering me with blankets I finally get over the lump in my throat. My voice is closer to a hoarse whisper than I'd expected:  
"_He_ could have accepted me, if not for you."  
For the longest time, Stampede is silent and I'm certain he must not have heard me until:

"No, Legato. Knives wouldn't have."

Stampede's leaving the room, about to just walk away again.

"_Liar._"

_So come out of your cave walking on your hands_  
_ And see the world hanging upside down_  
_ You can understand dependence_  
_ When you know the maker's land_

_ So make your siren's call_  
_ And sing all you want_  
_ I will not hear what you have to say_

_ Cause I need freedom now_  
_ And I need to know how_  
_ To live my life as it's meant to be_

_ And I will hold on hope_  
_ And I won't let you choke_  
_ On the noose around your neck_

* * *

Ahh- it took me long enough to get this out. Finished writing at 4 am a few nights back. God, I need to get a normal sleep schedule.

Lyrics are credit to Mumford and Sons' The Cave


End file.
